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Cassies Classy Chassie

Cassie isn't your typical woman - she is an accentuation of some of the best sensual qualities women in general possess. If her name were not Cassie, it might have been "Sassy" - but not because of any abrupt, argumentative character. It is her sassy style - her hair, the enticing and selective exposure of her sexuality, the way she moves and expresses herself. Of course she loves to dance: she can hardly sit still when music stirs her passion - it is the passionate rhythm of a woman who knows how to ride a man - in rhythm with his thrusting and in rhythm with her own waves of heated pleasure. Cassie loses herself in music and free movement, finds safety there, and allows passion to flow from it. There is nothing, absolutely nothing boring about Cassie, but she doesn't force herself upon you. She gets your attention and entices you to look deeper - feel deeper - penetrate deeper into her own depth of eroticism. There is yet a hidden mysteriousness about her, in spite of all she selectively reveals. And in spite of what you think you understand, superficially, by what your eyes see - it is what she chooses to withold for only a very few, very select, and fortunate men - ahhh, THAT is the source of her intrigue. Only those who value her classiness, her cleverness, her artistic expression of movement and form - will ever embrace and ride with her passion. She will not be pawed nor groped nor treated like an object. She is a passionate woman that shallow men cannot comprehend in their narrow, controlling, and anxiety fueled fantasies. She lives freely within her space - within her sensuality - and moves so that YOU stand up and take notice. Where there is the flavor of exibitionism about her - it is a deep and rich flavor, of warm, melting chocolate or of a spirited wine. It is not intrusive nor harsh nor abrasive - but compliments your own sensual tastes. You feel drawn to warm yourself by her fire. I remember the first time she shared her passion with me. It was a warm night cooled by ocean breezes - a tropical evening at beachside open-air bar. There was sand on the floor, rhythmic latin music in the air, and the scent of sensuality mixed with smoky torches that drew you to her like a moth to a flame. Her hips moved and her breasts lifted with the beat of the drums, constrained by the plunging white dress - lifted by irregular swirls teasing you to glance at her beautiful thighs and peek at even deeper shadowed delights. Where the music merely vibrated in your ears, it vibrated within her soul. When the dance was over, she took me by my hand, smiled and looked deep into my eyes, knowing somehow my passion had risen, led by her own. She took me to a secluded grove of palm trees- but not too far from the music - for if someone should come upon our thrusting embraces - she would be more than glad to allow them the pleasure of watching her excite her passions and drain me of my own. As she tasted my deepening breaths and shared the warmth of her mouth, she slid her hand down along the front of my open shirt and white cotten trousers and clasped my erection - firm and ready. Slowly lowering herself to her knees, she gently slid my pulsating penis along, but not between, her soft and smiling and sensual red lips. She licked the shaft from bottom to top - over and over and over - slowly - enticing my semen along - showing it the way - up towards the thin slit at the end of my penis. Afraid I would erupt in warm spurts too soon, I gently pushed her down upon the fallen palm leaves and allowed my tongue to explore what I had only a few minute before tried so hard to gaze under her waving dress. Now, lit by moon light and star light and urged by the crashing waves upon the beach, I found a rhythm of my own and rode with the waves - back and forth with my tongue - flicking and sucking and riding her passion and the lifting of her hips grasping at my mouth - until Cassie moaned, with head pulled back, and released the pent-up excitement of the dance. Then, penetrating her wetness, I added my juices in spurts of pleasure as we gasped and grasped and clung to each other - draining each other of every remaining beat of the music, until finally we lay silently together - cooling by the ocean breeze - until we were ready to dance this dance again.

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